


Behind Blue Eyes

by Shotgunpicksthemusic



Category: In the Flesh (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Hate Speech, Homophobia, M/M, discrimination against PDS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-02-13 20:52:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2164782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shotgunpicksthemusic/pseuds/Shotgunpicksthemusic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crossover of Supernatural and In The Flesh. </p><p>If you're unfamiliar with either show, here are the wikis:</p><p>http://intheflesh.wikia.com/wiki/In_The_Flesh_Wiki</p><p>http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/index.php?title=Main_Page</p><p> </p><p>The Rising has affected everyone, everywhere. </p><p>Dean wants to protect his home and his family against a threat he feels is all too real. </p><p>Sam wants to help PDS sufferers reintegrate into society. He knows with therapy, they can be human again. </p><p>Cas just wants to forget what he did when he was unmedicated. </p><p>None of them expected to care so much, especially Dean and Cas, who are drawn to each other. Cas is special, Dean knows this. </p><p>Special enough to change all of their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Linneart's drawings on tumblr. 
> 
> http://linneart.tumblr.com/post/94470332575
> 
> I tried to keep it in the same sort of pacing that In The Flesh has. Not sure I succeeded. :/
> 
> I'm not sure when I'll update but this will be a multi chapter fic. I'll do my best to update regularly. 
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are always welcomed.

_Running. Booted feet hitting the floor, thud thud thud. The crunch of glass under foot._

_Grab Sammy. Pull him closer, shove him behind you. Get in the room! Slam the door. Metal snick of the lock._

   
 

_The door shaking, warping in, bowing from the pressure. Echoing crash as it finally gives. And then the screams._

 

_Grab Sammy._

 

_Run._

_Run._

_Run._

_Breath short, hurts so much, like dragging in shards of glass with every gasp._

_Deafening explosion, sharp burst of light. Falling, Sammy underneath, scrambling away as more flashes of light flare around, more booms shake the night._

_Screaming._

_Always the screaming._

He was out of his bed, across the room, hand on the doorknob before he even registered he was awake. He stood there for a few moments taking deep breaths. His heart was beating so frantically it shook his rib cage. He needed to calm down.

A nightmare. That's all it was. With a quiet huff he released the doorknob and crossed the room quickly, settling back into bed. He'd see Sammy tomorrow. That would make it better. Wrapping up in his blankets, he tucked his back against the wall, facing the door, hand slipping under his pillow. His gun was there. It was all good. Slowly he drifted back to sleep.

 

~~*~~

Sam glanced at the armed guard sitting beside him and offered a weak smile, but got no response. Sighing, he shifted in his seat and watched the scenery.  The institute was just as sterile and cold as Sam had expected.

A stone fence topped with barbed wire surrounded the property, with patrols of armed guards walking the perimeter. He'd had to pass no less than three checkpoints, each time passing his ID and credentials over.

Finally the building came into sight and Sam bit back a sigh of relief. He hopped out of the SUV, barely waiting for it to stop fully. He tried to contain his excitement, but he could feel the grin on his face as he bounced in place, waiting to be shown inside.

God, it was depressing. White walls, concrete floors, guards with guns everywhere. Sam was swiftly moved through what had to be a common area set up with tables and chairs, cafeteria style. He craned his neck, trying to look around, but he saw very little before being placed in a small room.

More white stone walls, concrete floor, but at least this room had a couch-lumpy- and a tv mounted on the wall. There was a tiny round table shoved in the corner underneath a bank of barred windows which were set high against the ceiling. One wall was dominated by a mirror, two way, Sam guessed. He flopped on the couch, waiting.

The door creaked as it opened and a slim man stepped inside, offering Sam a small smile. His blue eyes sparkled behind black framed glasses, and his close cropped hair was dark blond.

"Dr. Jones?"

"Yes. Sam Winchester?"

"That's me. Pleased to meet you."

Sam stood and offered his hand. They shook, then both sat on the couch. Sam tried not to fidget under the Dr.'s penetrating gaze.

"So, tell me, Sam, what made you decide to foster a PDS patient?"

Right to it then. Sam could do this. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves.

 

"I'm a therapist. I mean, I've trained, I'm a PDS community caregiver. I just..." Sam inhaled, slowly letting the breath out before continuing. "I know some PDS sufferers have no family. I have my brother. I can't imagine what it must be like, to not have anyone. I believe PDS sufferers deserve the chance to live their lives. I think I can help. I can be there for someone who really needs me."

Dr. Jones simply stared at him and Sam held his gaze, willing him to see how sincere he was. He really felt he had a lot to offer and he knew he could make a difference, if they'd just let him. He'd jumped through all the hoops, passed all the tests and background checks, now it was all down to what this man decided. 

Dr. Jones had worked closely with the team in England that had discovered the cure for PDS. He'd come to America, then, as one of a group of doctors England had sent to other countries. Sam had studied his career, hoping to emulate him.

"All right, Sam. Let's talk about your home life and see who might be a good fit."

Sam grinned, leaning forward, eager to get started.

~~*~~

Castiel watched out the window as the truck carrying the latest group of patients left the facility. He sighed deeply, startling slightly at the 'humph' from beside him. 

"Off they go, to who knows where."

"Their families, Uriel. They're going to meet their families," Castiel replied softly. 

"So, who's more lucky, them, or us?"

Castiel didn't respond. He moved away from the window and sat on a couch, pulling a pillow into his lap. He didn't have a family. At least, he didn't remember one. 

"You don't want to stay here forever, do you?"

He turned to Uriel, who had joined him on the couch. The tv droned on, some silly cooking show, and other PDS patients were grouped around it, expressions dull while they watched it.

"They brought a new one in," Uriel said instead of answering Castiel's question. "They named her Muriel."

Castiel turned away at that, unsure of what to say. Another PDS patient with no family, no memory. Another angel without a home.

~~*~~

Nervous. He supposed one could say anxious, terrified, worried. Castiel ran his hands along his jeans, shifting on the bed slightly, causing the bag at his feet to crinkle.

He stood and walked to the mirror, checking his appearance one more time. The coverup had gone on smoothly and the contacts were almost as blue as he thought his eyes had been. His hair, however, refused to behave and stuck up in short spikes. He'd never had much luck in taming it, though, so really it wouldn't do to worry about it. He jumped when he heard someone speak behind him, whirling around to see Dr. Jones smiling at him from the doorway.

"Are you ready? Excited?"

Dr. Jones was as chipper as ever, but Castiel could only grimace in response to his grin.

"Nervous," Castiel admitted. He liked the soft cadence of Dr. Jones' voice and the lilt of his accent. He would miss him greatly. He had always been kind to Castiel.

"Sam's really very nice.  Don't worry, Castiel, you'll do fine."

He wished he shared the doctor's confidence. He knew it was a good thing, in theory. He'd been cleared to leave, had gone to all his sessions, had glowing reviews. He'd be in a house, have his own room, and he'd be allowed to settle in at his own pace. But, still, it was frightening. He didn't know this Sam. He wasn't family. 

"Come on then, time to meet."

Nodding, Castiel stood, gripping the bag with his few belongings tightly in his hand and bravely following the doctor.

They left the room, walked down a small hallway and through a door into a comfortable lobby. There was a man sitting on one of the couches who stood when they entered.

Tall, lanky, his brown hair flopped over warm hazel eyes and his smile was friendly as he held out his hand. Castiel gripped it in a firm handshake, relieved when Sam didn't shrink from the coldness of his skin.

"Castiel, right? I'm Sam."

"Hello, Sam."  Castiel offered a small smile.

"Um, so it's a long drive. We should get going. But you're going to love where we live. And the dogs. I hope you like dogs."

Castiel followed Sam as he left the building, chatting the entire way. He glanced back at the doctor, who was waving cheerfully at him. Squaring his shoulders he followed Sam's lead. He would make this work.

The drive was pleasant enough.  Sam was an engaging person, genuinely interested in Castiel. They passed the time chatting about the town they were going to ('a small one, don't worry, very friendly') the house ('a bit in the boonies, but we have wifi and cable') and a variety of other things.

Castiel began to relax. A comfortable quiet fell and he watched the scenery as it passed. Perhaps this would go well, after all.

~~*~~

"What do you mean, not necessary. They're moving those _things_  back into people's houses! Of course, we're necessary!"

"There're still rabids out there!"

"Now, now, everyone calm down."

Dean snorted softly in derision as the mayor tried desperately to quiet the crowd. He swept his gaze across the room. Lawrence hadn't been hit by the Rising quite as badly as some other places, but they'd suffered their losses. And, like other towns, they'd created a volunteer force of hunters, who'd handled the rotters that had caused problems.

The press of his gun at his back was comforting to him.  He'd joined the force after a group of rotters had taken his parents down and he and Sam had been rescued by the HVF. And now, thanks to bleeding heart politicians, those freaks were going to be mixed in with normal people. It just didn't sit right.

"On their medication, PDS patients are safe."

"And if they don't take it?" Dean asked, pushing off of the wall he'd been leaning on. The mayor gave him a patronizing smile.

"I can assure you they will. It's the law. They have to."

"Well, that'll be reassuring to the people they eat when they've missed it and we're not around because you freaking disbanded us!"  Dean moved forward, emboldened by the shouts of agreement. "I mean, everyone always obeys the law, right?"

"I'm sure you'll all do fine and will welcome the PDS sufferers with open minds."

Dean knew a hasty retreat when he saw one and that mayor was running. He ignored the mutters and complaints around him and sought out Bobby.

"Boy, you know how to put your foot in it."

"Come on, Bobby, you can't see this as a good thing. And you know there's still some rabids wandering around. Ellen said she saw one in the fields behind the Roadhouse the other day!"

"I ain't saying we don't still protect this town, you idjit. I'm just saying we don't do it as the HVF anymore. We ain't supposed to."

Dean rolled his eyes. "We still patrolling?"

Bobby huffed a short breath. "I know you got dinner with Sam tonight. Ash and Jo are on patrol."

"Jo?" Dean grinned. "How'd you talk Ellen into that?"

"The less she knows the safer we are."

"Ain't that the truth," Dean said with a smile.

He walked away with Bobby's laughter ringing in his ears. Sam should be back from picking up his new roommate by now. Dinner sounded real good.

~~*~~

Castiel placed the last of his belongings, few as they were, in his dresser. His room was nice, nicer than he'd expected.  The walls were painted a soft blue which complimented the honey colored bedroom set. He'd never had a bed this big, four poster and covered in soft sheets and homemade quilts. There were a few pictures hung up of nature scenes which Castiel liked, a lot, especially the print of the flowers and bees. He had his own bathroom as well, so he could put on his coverup and contacts in private. And, best of all, the wall opposite the bathroom was converted to a floor to ceiling bookcase, filled with all sorts of books.

He was browsing the shelves, picking out what he'd like to read first, when he heard the front door open.

"Sam?  You here?"

Castiel left his room, closing the door quietly and moving to the staircase. The house was a nice, two story farmhouse, with the bedrooms on the second floor. Sam had explained that Castiel had his old bedroom, while Sam had taken the master bedroom and the third room was his brother, Dean's. Castiel assumed that was who was standing in the foyer now, staring up at him.

His first impression was green. Brilliant green eyes, framed by freckles. Castiel's breath caught and he froze, staring at the beautiful man who was staring right back at him.

"You must be Sam's new roommate. I'm Dean, his brother."

"Uh, Castiel. I mean, I'm Castiel. It's nice to meet you."

"Castiel, huh?"  Dean moved closer, walking to the bottom of the stairs and grinning up at Castiel. "Can I call you Cas? Your name's kind of a mouthful."

"Cas is fine." Castiel's head tilted as he noticed the white armband on Dean's bicep. "What is HVF?"

"Oh," Dean looked at his arm as if he'd forgotten the band was there. "Human Volunteer Force. We kept the town safe during the Rising. Course that don't mean anything now that they're letting the fucking rotters back in."

"Dean!"

Castiel had felt a flash of panic at the venom in Dean's voice, but felt slightly better when Sam reappeared.

"You can't call them that, Dean," Sam chided.

"Oh, excuse me, _PDS sufferers_.  They weren't the ones who suffered, Sam. We were."

"Still, Dean."  Sam glanced at Castiel, who was clutching the railing at the top of the stairs, his wide eyed gaze pinned on Dean.

"I just came over to take you two to dinner, not fight about rotters," Dean said with a sigh.  "So, how about it Cas? Up for some burgers and pie?"

"Actually, I'm rather fatigued," Castiel said, glancing at Sam, who nodded slightly. "And I am not feeling particularly well, so I believe I'd just like to rest."

"Suit yourself. Sam, I'll be in the car. Hurry up!  It was nice meeting you, Cas!" Dean shouted over his shoulder as he walked outside.

"I'm sorry," Sam apologized. He grabbed his coat from the closet by the front door. "It's probably best he doesn't see that you don't eat. He'll come around, I promise. He's really a nice guy."

"Of course. Have a good dinner."

"You'll be ok by yourself?"

_You'll stay inside?_

"I'll be fine. I promise to stay in my room and not answer the door," Castiel answered the unspoken question.

"I didn't mean..."A loud blast from a horn outside cut Sam off and he scowled in irritation. "I won't be long."

Castiel watched him leave and listened as the key turned in the lock. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself, moving back into his room and shutting the door. Leaning against the door he closed his eyes, fighting the fear that threatened to overwhelm him.

Just how safe was he?


	2. To Be The Sad Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel settles in, Dean is flirty, and Sam is apprehensive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [mymusemyflame](http://mymusemyflame.tumblr.com) for looking over this for me. 
> 
> Comments, constructive criticism, kudos are all welcome and adored! 
> 
> I'm trying to keep the pacing of In The Flesh, and I hope I've succeeded.
> 
> There's a very slight bit of gore, but nothing too descriptive.

Castiel stayed in his room, as promised, reading. He heard the front door open, the footsteps on the stairwell, and put his book down in his lap, waiting. He wasn't disappointed; there was a soft knock at his door. 

"Cas?"

"Come in."

Sam opened the door, his eyes darting around the room. He swallowed and ran his hands through his hair before smiling nervously at Castiel, who returned the smile, trying to reassure him.  Sam nodded and walked into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I wanted to say again, I'm sorry about Dean."

"It won't be a problem, will it, with him living here?"

"Living here? Oh, no, Dean doesn't live here. He's got his room, yeah, but he lives in town. We, uh, kinda disagreed about the whole volunteer force thing and he moved out a while ago."  His mouth twitched and Sam looked slightly irritated, apparently recalling that fight.

"Sam, will I need to hide the fact that I'm partially deceased?"

"Just for a little bit." Noticing Cas's distressed look, Sam leaned forward and put his hand on Cas's shoulder. 

"Just until I tell him, Cas. He'll be good with it, I promise. And it's not just me. Some businesses in town are hiring PDS workers and there are others who've returned to their families. It'll be okay."

He gave what he hoped was a comforting smile and stood, patting Cas on the shoulder.

"I'll let you get to sleep. I've got to visit the families in town tomorrow to check up on them so I'll go after we do your medicine, all right?"

"Of course, Sam, that will be fine. Thank you."

Sam nodded and slipped from the room, shutting the door behind him. Cas put his book down and headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

~~*~~

_He shuffled forward, toward the smell of meat. Dimly he could hear the screams, but they didn't matter. Only what was in front of him, body on the ground, head split open and the hunger that drive him forward. He thrust his hands into the skull, bringing them up to his mouth and sucking them clean._

 _He paid no mind to the movements of others around him. Bright beams of light flickered back and forth. Suddenly he felt something fall on him, and, although he struggled, he couldn't get free. He was dragged away, still straining to feed._

Castiel jerked forward and gasped, feeling the sting burn of the medicine enter his system. He closed his eyes, slowed his breathing, fought the memories.

"Everything all right?"

Castiel forced a smile. "I'm fine. It just brings back memories."

"Bad ones?"

"I don't have any other kind," he answered softly.

"Oh."  Sam opened his mouth, but seemed to second guess what he'd been about to say. He put the syringe back in his bag and closed it before placing a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "I've got to make the rounds. You'll be okay here?"

"Am I allowed to go outside?"

"Of course," Sam answered brightly. "Just don't go too far. The HVF patrols the woods around here. There's a garden in the yard behind the house, if you're interested in that. I've got mostly vegetables but I'm thinking of planting some roses and flowers."

"Maybe I'll take a look at it then," Castiel said.

Sam nodded and finished gathering his things, digging his car keys out of his pocket and heading for the door.

"I'll be back by six, all right?"

"I will be here.  Cross my heart and hope to die."

Sam laughed and walked out the door.  Castiel waited until he heard the car start, then stood and stretched.  He wandered about the house for a little bit.

The living room was spacious and filled with broken in, but not worn furniture, a soft comfortable couch, two armchairs, all facing a wall with a pretty impressive entertainment system.

He browsed the dvds Sam owned, and although he had a wide variety of games and movies, none sounded enticing.  There were books on all the flat surfaces, the tables at the ends of the couch and the coffee table in front bore volumes of poetry and fiction, but there were books in his room and he didn't feel like reading right now.  He walked out of the room, bypassing the game room to his right and through the kitchen, headed for the back door.

The kitchen was neat and well stocked, not that he'd have much to do with it since he didn't need nourishment. He walked quickly through, out the mud room and through the back door. The lawn was well kept, bounded by a cedar plank fence.

Beyond the fence was a thicket of trees, the woods that Sam had mentioned.  The house was well and truly isolated, and that brought Castiel a measure of relief. There, in the back corner of the rather large yard was the garden. He saw no sign of the dogs, so he assumed they'd gone with Sam on his rounds.  They were nice enough, Castiel supposed, Bailey was a large, friendly lab, and Rosie a terrier mix.  They'd accepted Castiel, but obviously preferred Sam's company.

He approached the garden, taking note that it needed weeding and thinning. Looking around, he spotted a shed and went to it, thinking to find gloves and tools inside.  Working in the garden would be soothing.

The sun was warm, pleasant, and he was happy, his hands buried in the earth.  He wasn't sure how long he'd been working, but he'd found sort of a peaceful zone, the world around him falling away.  It was startling, then, to feel a hand grip his shoulder and he fell back on his rear, looking up to see Dean looming over him, laughing.

"The look on your face, man!" Dean laughed whole heartedly, throwing his head back, his body shaking. Castiel couldn't help but smile; Dean's laughter was infectious. "I'm sorry," Dean said, grinning, "I was looking for Sam."

"He left earlier, but he said he'd be back later today."

Dean held out his hand, and since he had the gloves on, Castiel allowed him to help him up.  Dean pulled harder than he anticipated, though, and he smacked into the man, his free hand flying up to grip Dean's bicep to steady himself.

"Whoa, there."

Dean grinned at Castiel, his gaze dropping to Castiel's lips.  Castiel swallowed hard, biting his bottom lip.  He could feel Dean's warmth, craved it, but this was not a good idea. He pushed away from Dean, who let him go reluctantly.

"So, I figure I'll just wait for Sam. Want to watch a movie with me?  You can even pick."

"I'd like to finish out here."   _Keep your distance, Castiel. Too dangerous otherwise._

"All right then," Dean replied. "I'll just be inside."

Castiel simply nodded and watched as he walked away. It was just wishful thinking, he was sure, that he detected a note of disappointment in Dean's voice.  He shook his head as if to free it of fanciful thoughts and knelt in the grass to finish clearing the vegetable bed.

Finally, the bed was neat and weed free. Castiel was surprised to find he felt tired, but filled with satisfaction as he surveyed the now clean rows of growing plants. He carefully placed the gloves and tools back in the shed and entered the house, stopping in the mud room to clean up. He could hear the tv going, something loud and noisy. He slipped from the kitchen, intending to get by Dean without disturbing him, but realized that wasn't going to happen when the noise from the tv suddenly stopped.

"Cas?" Dean looked over the back if the couch, his expression hopeful.  "Gonna join me now?"

"I need to change and I was going to lie down, maybe read."

"Aw, come on, Cas! Don't leave me down here all by myself! Besides, we should be getting to know each other, seeing as how you're living with my brother."

"I'll just change, then. I'll be right back down."

"Awesome." Dean turned back around, starting the movie again.

Castiel stripped off his dirty clothes quickly, checking his cover up to make sure it looked fine. He took a steadying breath and looked at his reflection. Everything seemed fine. He put on soft, worn jeans and a hoodie with sleeves long enough to cover his hands. If he didn't touch Dean, if Dean couldn't feel how cold he was, he wouldn't know Castiel was partially deceased. A frown pulled at his mouth but he knew he had no choice, not at the moment.

Dean looked up as he entered the living room, scooting over and making room for him on the couch. Castiel settled in the corner, tucking his legs underneath and pulling his hands into his sleeves. He shook his head in refusal when Dean offered him some popcorn.

"So, whatcha want to watch? Got a favorite movie?"

"I haven't watched any movies, not that I remember."

"What do you mean, not that you remember?"

"Sam didn't tell you?"  Castiel studied Dean, tilting his head. He tried to read his expression, seeing only open curiosity and friendliness. How much was safe to tell him? Castiel shuddered, wrapping his arms around him and looking away from Dean. "I've lost my memory. It's partly why I'm living with him."

"That sucks, Cas. I'm sorry. But Sam's good with the therapy so I'm sure he'll help you.  He's into that touchy-feely sort of crap. He really cares, though."

"He's been very nice."  Castiel sighed. "Why don't you pick something?"

"Sure!  You should like this one."

Dean slipped off the couch and Castiel absolutely did not watch his jeans tighten on his ass as he bent over. He sighed again. Dean was flirty and attractive and according to Sam, actually very nice. If he were human, if he were 'normal', he would explore this attraction that he felt. But he wasn't 'normal' and he'd best stop before he started.

He gave Dean a small smile when the man settled next to him. It was just watching a movie. He could do this.

Castiel was startled at how quickly the time had passed when Sam made it home. Sam flashed him a concerned look when he noticed the two of them on the couch, but Castiel didn't care. Dean was fun to talk to, lively and charming. He felt it difficult to reconcile with the bitterness and anger he'd seen in the man the other day.

"Sam!" Dean jumped up, clapping his brother in the shoulder. "You have a hell of a roommate here."  He looked over his shoulder and winked at Castiel.

"Off limits, Dean," Sam warned, moving past his brother and into the kitchen.

"Jeez, can't a guy say anything nice?" Dean countered, following Sam.

Castiel knew he shouldn't eavesdrop, but who could blame him? He was essentially trapped here with people he barely knew.  He needed to be aware of what was happening. Silently, he climbed off the couch and stood just outside the kitchen.

"I know you, Dean. I swear you'll hit on anything that's attractive and moves. And I'm not too sure you worry if it moves or not."

"Wow, Sam, tell me how you really feel.  I'm just being nice to the guy."

"Dean, I know the difference between 'I'm being nice and polite' and 'I'd like to bend him over and go to town'. You're hitting on Castiel and it has to stop."

"He's a big boy, Sammy. I'm betting he can make his own decision. And yeah, the guy's stupidly attractive and the shyness? Surprisingly a major turn on. If he tells me he's not interested, I'll back off. He doesn't need you trying to run his life."

Castiel heard a sigh and assumed it came from Sam.

"That's just it, Dean. He's kind of in a bad place right now. You don't know everything, and it's not my story to tell. I'm asking you to let it go. Back off. He needs time to adjust and heal and he won't get that if my horndog brother is panting all over him."

"I wasn't panting..."

Castiel stepped into the kitchen then, cutting Dean off. Sam looked aggravated and Dean was blushing slightly. 

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to let you know I'm going upstairs to lie down for a bit."

"Aw, come on, Cas, join us for dinner. I promise not to bite, unless of course you're into that," Dean cajoled.

"Dean, could you not do that?" Sam demanded, exasperated.

"What?"

Castiel laughed at the affronted look on Dean's face. Dean grinned back at him.  Sam glanced between them, frowning.

"Go lie down, Cas," he said, shooing him out of the kitchen. "I'll bring something up for you to eat, all right?"

"Sounds good, thank you, Sam.  And thank you, Dean, for showing me the movie. I really enjoyed it."

"We'll do it again soon, Cas. Just have to ask dad here if it's okay."

Castiel laughed again, leaving the kitchen and heading upstairs with a smile on his face. Dean was interested in him. In him!  Maybe he could learn to look past Castiel's condition? A small flutter of hope bloomed in his chest. Maybe.

He settled on the bed with a good book, losing himself in the pages of adventure. A knock on his door pulled him out of his reading.

Sam came in, perching on the side of Castiel's bed. Castiel put his book down, giving him his full attention.

"Uh, Cas." Sam looked very uncomfortable so Castiel was quiet, letting him find the words he wanted to say. "I think it's great you're getting along so well with Dean, I really do..."

"But?"

Sam sighed. "Do you really think it's a good idea to encourage him?"

"All I did was laugh at his joke. He's amusing,"Castiel said. "How will he ever get past his prejudice if he's never shown any different? Don't you want him to see PDS sufferers as people?"

"Of course I do, Cas, I'm just worried. About you, I mean."

Castiel frowned. Sam looked uneasy and he wasn't meeting Castiel's gaze. He shifted in the bed, moving slightly away from Sam, withdrawing.

"It's all right, Sam," he said quietly, eyes trained on his book. If he didn't look, he wouldn't see the discomfort in Sam's expression. "I'll make sure to keep my interactions with Dean polite and chaste."

"You understand why, right, Cas? I mean, I'm only thinking of you."

"I understand. Could you shut the door? I think I'll turn in for the night."

"Sure thing."  He could feel Sam get up from the bed, heard him walk across the room, but didn't look. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he whispered, the click of the door shutting loud in the otherwise silent room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [Tumblr](http://monkeyscomewithme.tumblr.com). Feel free to come pester me.
> 
> Thanks to all who read, comment, and kudo. Y'all rock!


	3. To Be Fated To Telling Only Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel's relationship takes a step and falters as Dean finally learns a truth he may not be able to deal with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [mymusemyflame](http://mymusemyflame.tumblr.com) for looking over this for me. I seriously couldn't do this without you. 
> 
> Comments, constructive criticism, kudos are all welcome and adored! 
> 
> I'm trying to keep the pacing of In The Flesh, and I hope I've succeeded. Also, I know almost nothing about Lawrence, and while I did try to research, I only have mobile (yes, I write my stories on my mobile phone), and I decided to wing it. I mean no disrespect, and if anything I've written bothers anyone, please feel free to contact me!

The sound of the car tires crunching on the gravel of the driveway was slowly fading. Castiel watched from the window, waiting until Sam's car disappeared from sight. He gave it a few minutes more, then, pulling his coat on, he slipped from the front door.

He was going stir crazy in the house. The garden had never looked better, the house was spotless, the more interesting books read, and movies watched. Two weeks of staying inside as Sam left everyday to go about his life was enough. Castiel was finished with obeying the silent rule to stay out of sight.

The only bright side had been Dean. He'd called frequently and they spent hours chatting about everything and nothing. Castiel now knew Dean loved his Baby, liked classic rock, lived for pie. He knew he loved Sam fiercely and felt protective of him.

Dean, for his part, learned Castiel was calm and introspective, that he loved poetry and hamburgers, that he was passionate about both bees and the good of humanity.

Dean also knew how frustrated Castiel was with his memory loss. Castiel mused over what few memories he did have as he walked along the country lane. He remembered hunting for food. He hadn't been alone; Uriel and Anael were captured with him. They were blank slates as well, no memories, no family.

Pushing the mystery of his past to a back corner of his mind, Castiel decided to just enjoy the beautiful day. It was sunny, not too warm, a slight breeze blowing. The waving fields of grass and grain gave way to well kept lawns of encroaching houses, the country lane turning into blacktop and sidewalks. Castiel smiled in greeting at the friendly hailings of the towns people.

Lawrence was not what Castiel expected. He'd thought it would be a small town, but it was fairly developed. The main street was busy with pedestrians and vehicles. There were quaint bookstores, modern coffee shops, second hand and name brand clothing stores, just where the tourists would find them. Tucked in here and there were the more sedate shops, music stores, a cleaners, various restaurants and diners. Office buildings lurked in the background, gleaming in the late morning sun. He strolled along the main street, stopping occasionally to look in store windows, his mouth quirking at the scenes of domesticity and normalcy he saw.

The heavenly scent of cinnamon and apples filled the air and he breathed in deep, wishing he could actually eat, it smelled so good. He sniffed, looking for the source of the scent, finding it at a colorful local bakery. The window was cheerfully painted in gold leaf, flowing script welcoming patrons to 'Benny's' and proclaiming it was 'Voted Lawrence's Best Bakery'. Castiel leaned in to look at the different pastries and pies, debating a purchase. Dean would be coming for dinner tonight and he wondered how badly Sam would react to learning he'd left if he bought an apple pie.

"It's a tragedy, isn't it?"

Castiel started, surprised by the voice of the man standing very close to him. He tilted his head, giving the man a confused look. Warm honey colored eyes sparkled when the man grinned at him. He was shorter than Castiel, was dressed in a hideously bright Hawaiian shirt and torn jeans, and had his dark blond hair pushed back by the sunglasses resting on his head. He nodded, redirecting Castiel's attention to the window where cookies decorated with various candies were displayed.

"I miss that the most. Candy." His voice broke on the last word and he pressed his face and hands against the window with a deep sigh. "I can handle being dead. But not being able to eat sweets? It's almost enough to make me want to die again."

"You're PDS?" Castiel asked quietly, looking around to see if anyone was listening to their conversation.

"I just said I'm dead. Pay attention." The man turned to Castiel, sticking out his hand. "Gabriel."

"Castiel."

"Ah, you're like me!" Gabriel clasped Castiel's hand firmly, tugging him down the street. "That makes us brothers. How'd you, you know?"

"I don't..."

"Come on, Cassie, you can tell me." Gabriel slipped his arm in Castiel's, elbows linked. "I was stabbed. No idea who did it, of course, because no memory, but the hole in my chest was a good indicator."

"I don't have any marks and the doctors at the Institute never said. Can you keep your voice down?"

Castiel smiled weakly at a mother who nodded back, returning the smile, hurrying along with her daughter. He glanced at Gabriel, his smile turning slightly down. Gabriel smirked at him, his eyebrow raising as he huffed a laugh.

"Why?" Gabriel stopped short, turning to face Castiel. His expression was questioning but not judging.

"I just don't know that it's wise to be so loud about our condition. People might not understand."

"Then people need to get over it because we aren't going anywhere, little bro." Gabriel shook his head, crossing his arms, his expression defiant.

"Little bro?" Castiel tilted his head at Gabriel, lifting his eyebrow. The crowd flowed around them, but seemed to be paying no attention to them.

"Yeah, I'm cooler, I'm obviously the big brother. Come on." Gabriel slid his arm through Castiel's again, pulling him along, almost skipping.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Does it matter? The day is beautiful, the normals are being pleasant to us, although I suspect that's because they don't realize they've the living dead in their midst, and I've just found my dear, little brother. Why not enjoy the fine morning and see where it takes us?"

"I shouldn't be gone too long." Castiel bit his lip slightly, shaking his head. He frowned at Gabriel's eye roll.

"Says who?" Gabriel turned to look at Castiel, a smile tugging at his lips his eyebrows raised, mischief evident in his expression. His grin turned sly and he jerked his head slightly, indicating something behind Castiel. "Don't look now, but you got a pretty boy gunning for you."

Castiel whipped around, ignoring Gabriel's laughing, "I told you not to look!"

Dean was walking swiftly towards him, smiling broadly. Castiel slipped his hands into his pockets, letting his pleasure at seeing Dean show on his face.

"Cas! I was beginning to think you'd never leave Sammy's. What're you doing? Wanna get some lunch?"

"Uh, I already ate. I mean, Gabriel and I did, sorry."

"Oh," Dean rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the ground, obviously disappointed.

"But we were just going to catch a movie, and you can definitely come along, princess," Gabriel said cheerfully. "I'm sure Cassie would love to share a popcorn with you!"

"Gabriel!"

"What? He's stunning, Cas. I'd be hitting that hard enough to leave bruises."

"Standing right here, you know." Dean sounded both amused and exasperated. "But I'd love to see a movie with you, Cas."

"Right. There's a horror movie playing that I'm dying to see. Come on!" Gabriel grabbed Castiel's hand and jerked him along, leaving Dean to catch up to them. "Just take the popcorn and throw it on the floor," Gabriel said quietly. "He'll never know."

"Thanks," Castiel murmured.

"That's what a big bro is for, right?" With a wide grin, Gabriel skipped ahead, still pulling Castiel along with him.

The theater was quiet, calm in the sleepy midday. They purchased their tickets and found their seats, Gabriel moving several rows in front of them to sit down because 'he didn't want to deal with the smooching'. Castiel hit him for that, but Dean laughed and guided Castiel along by his forearm, settling them towards the back of the mostly empty room. The lights dimmed, the previews started, and Castiel curled into his seat, feeling nervous and excited.

For the first bit of the movie, Dean did nothing more than occasionally brush his hand against Castiel's as they shared the popcorn. Castiel began to relax, even though he was irrationally disappointed. He wanted Dean to touch him, but feared it, too. The thing was, he was growing so tired of denying the feelings he had. He glanced at Dean, looking away quickly when he caught Dean watching him. Moving slightly in the seat, he widened the spread of his legs, allowing his knee to press against Dean's, shyly looking to see Dean's reaction. Dean's mouth curled into a soft smile and he nudged Castiel's knee. Castiel swallowed hard, dropping his gaze to the popcorn bucket, scooping up a handful and pretending to eat it.

Dean shifted closer to him, taking the popcorn bucket from Castiel's lap and resting it on the floor. Castiel looked at him questioningly when he moving the armrest between them up, lifting his hand and stroking Castiel's cheek.

"Is this ok?" he whispered, leaning forward.

Castiel could only nod, hoping against hope that Dean wouldn't remark on his cooler skin. The first brush of lips was soft, so soft. A simple press of lips, gentle and fleeting. Castiel opened his eyes, searching Dean's face. He was encouraged by the look of pleasure and want on Dean's face.

"Popcorn butter," Dean whispered, licking his lips with a sheepish grin.

"I don't mind," Castiel whispered back.

He stared at Dean, steadily meeting his gaze. Dean leaned in again, tilting his head and Castiel met him eagerly. Dean's tongue brushed his lips, just as his hand slid up Castiel's thigh, brushing lightly against his crotch. Castiel moaned and allowed Dean to claim his mouth, the slide of their tongues enticing and arousing. He could feel the desire building. He clutched at Dean's face, his hips moving ever so slightly while Dean pressed against him. Castiel broke the kiss, panting against Dean's lips, forehead to forehead.

"Want you," Dean's voice was broken, harsh and rough. "Want to touch you, taste you, have you. Cas..."

Castiel shuddered, drawing in a ragged breath. He turned his head, nosing at Dean's cheek, mouthing along the line of his jaw. Dean's hand settled on his hip, tugging at his shirt, slipping inside to caress Castiel's skin. His other arm slipped around Castiel's head, fingers playing in his short hair as Castiel sucked on Dean's neck. Dean let out a soft moan and moved closer, the hand on Castiel's hip sliding forward to dip into the front of his pants.

A sharp cough and a bright light shined into their faces drove them apart. Castiel was mortified to see the usher standing next to them, glaring at them.

"Sorry?" Dean said, grinning and leaning back in the seat.

Castiel shot him a hard look and stood.

"Where are you going?" Dean leaned forward, reaching up to grasp Castiel's hand.

"Bathroom," he whispered harshly, pulling his hand away and moving swiftly past the usher to the aisle and walking out into the lobby headed towards the bathroom.

He wasn't surprised to find Dean had followed him but for the moment, he ignored him as he stood at the mirror, gripping the sink.

"Cas, you ok?" Dean was laughing. He came up to Cas and slid his arms around his waist, resting his chin on his shoulder as he looked at their reflection.

"I shouldn't have..."

"No, you should." Dean gently spun Castiel around and gripped his chin, holding his gaze. "You're wound too tight and Sam keeps you on such a short leash. It's ok to like someone, Cas. To like me, for instance."

"I do, Dean, but you don't want me. This is a mistake."

"I don't want you? Did you miss that freaking awesome make out session, or was I the only one there?" Dean's thumb brushed Castiel's cheek, traced his mouth. "Gonna have to buy you some sweaters man, you're chilly."

"Dean..."

"Shhhh."

Dean leaned forward, tilting his head, and kissed Castiel, pressing his jaw to urge him to open to him. He pressed against Castiel, moaning into his mouth when their bodies aligned, bringing delicious friction into play. Castiel wanted to let go, wanted to give in, but he couldn't. With a choked cry he shoved lightly on Dean, putting some space between them.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I want to, you have no idea how I want to, but I can't. I just can't."

Without waiting for Dean's reaction he fled the theater, running for home.

~~*~~

Sam looked over the room, noting those who shifted nervously in their seats, who was calm, who seemed uneasy. There was a good turnout, so he was grateful for that. Dean sat slumped in the front row, aimlessly playing with his phone. Sam frowned. Dean had been surly and withdrawn, even more so than usual. Castiel had been very quiet as well, and Sam wasn't foolish or dense enough to not guess that something had happened between the two. The last dinner they'd had together Castiel hid up in his room and Dean was quiet, picking at his food and sarcastic when he did choose to talk. Sam huffed out a forceful breath, rubbing his forehead and pushing his hair back. He'd been afraid that something would happen and he was pretty sure something had, but neither Castiel nor Dean was saying anything.

He shook his head slightly. He needed to get his head in the game. When the last few stragglers came in through the door, he stood and rapped on the white board at the front of the room, gathering everyone's attention.

"Welcome. I appreciate everyone taking time out of your day to come. We'll be discussing PDS today and the integration of PDS sufferers into our town." He saw a few hands shoot up and he held up his hand, forestalling the questions. "Please, wait. I'll give you ample time to ask questions soon."

"Now, for the most frequent questions. Partially Deceased Syndrome affects a small portion of the population of Lawrence. As a primary caregiver, I visit each of the families here and help them with anything they need. This can mean various things, depending on the family and individual sufferer. Some need help readjusting to family life, some need counseling, and some need to simply be accepted and loved, despite what they might have done while under influence from the disease. PDS sufferers are not violent. They will not attack anyone, they are just like you and me, they simply have a condition that they have no control over."

Pausing, Sam looked around the room. Not too many welcoming expressions, starting with his own brother. Well, he thought, squaring his shoulders, he knew this would be an uphill battle. Forgiveness was hard, letting go of the past and moving forward difficult for most.

"Discrimination against PDS sufferers is as much a crime as it is against anyone. I'm really hoping, now that they've had time to settle in a bit, that we will be as welcoming as a small town is supposed to be. You can't catch PDS. We aren't even sure how it was determined who would rise and who wouldn't. Sufferers are just people. They have feelings, can fall in love, feel pain, be hurt. They don't eat, don't bleed as we know it, but they sleep and dream. They feel everything we can feel, and like us, they can be killed. They died, were buried and rose again. The medicine allows normal brain function, and they must take it regularly. Yes, they are different from the living, but no more different than someone who must take insulin or any other maintenance medicine."

Sam ignored Dean's pointed cough and continued. "With proper medication, they are just as safe as you and me. There will be places in town that have hired PDS sufferers. There is no chance of contamination, so please, continue to frequent these establishments."

He looked around the room, pleased to see some expressions had softened. "I know this is strange and difficult. I know that we all still have memories of the Rising, how frightening it was. I wouldn't even be here if my brother hadn't fought for my life against the untreated sufferers. Letting go of the prejudice and fear is going to be a struggle, but I have faith in you, in my town, in my family." He gave Dean a look, smiling slightly when Dean rolled his eyes, but smiled back.

"Any questions?"

"Who's hiring them? I mean, we have a right to know, don't we? You can say all you want, but these things aren't normal."

Sighing and rubbing his forehead, Sam pasted on a smile. Of course Gordan would be the one to start trouble. He was a staunch defender of the HVF and known for being belligerent.

"My mom is," Jo said before Sam could respond, standing, hands on her hips, daring anyone to say something against Ellen. "So, get used to it, if you want to drink."

"You're sure they can't infect us?"

"What happens if they don't take their medicine?"

"Are they being monitored?"

Sam held up his hand, stemming the shouted questions. "The families are in charge of making sure medicine is taken properly and on schedule. Really, you don't have anything to fear. These people are not the 'rabids' you're so afraid of. Don't they deserve a chance?"

There were a few murmurs in the crowd, but nothing that seemed to be angry. Sam glanced at Dean, pretty sure his next move would not go over well with his brother.

'Well', he took in a deep breath,'here goes nothing.'

"I've asked a PDS sufferer to come here, to talk to you and let you have a chance to get to know him. He's not from Lawrence originally, and he's lost his memories." And there, Dean sat up straight, his expression tight and closed off. Sam plunged ahead. "Please, welcome Castiel. He'll answer any questions you might have."

Castiel moved to the front of the room from where he'd been standing in the back. He didn't look at Dean, but he didn't miss the flash of movement as Dean stood and stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him. Castiel shoved his feelings to the side, ignoring the pain, and smiled tightly before addressing the room.

"Hello, it's nice to meet you all. My name is Castiel. I'm a PDS sufferer and I'm rebuilding my life. I'd like to answer any questions you may have."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [Tumblr](http://monkeyscomewithme.tumblr.com). Feel free to come pester me.
> 
> Thanks to all who read, comment, and kudo. Y'all rock!


	4. I Have Hours Only Lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life goes on in Lawrence, but under the surface, tensions are mounting between the townfolk and those with PDS. 
> 
> I've updated the tags, please check!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [mymusemyflame](http://mymusemyflame.tumblr.com) for looking over this for me. I seriously couldn't do this without you. 
> 
> Comments, constructive criticism, kudos are all welcome and adored! 
> 
> I'm trying to keep the pacing of In The Flesh, and I hope I've succeeded.
> 
> Notes before you read: 
> 
> I've updated the tags because Gordon's an asshole and needs warnings for him. Also, the speech (you'll know it when you get there) is a word for word transcript from the TV show S1E1, so credit for that belongs to Dominic Mitchell. I found all the scripts online! :)

Castiel was awakened, rather rudely and suddenly, by a heavy weight landing on him. He scrambled beneath the covers, confusion overwhelming him, pinned and panicking. Loud and vibrant laughter filled his room. Finally, Castiel was able to pull his blanket off, blinking at the sight of Gabriel, perched on his legs, sitting cross legged and grinning at him as he leaned forward, hands on his knees. Gabriel's eyebrows wiggled and he winked at Castiel.

"Up and at'em, dead boy. We got things to do."

Gabriel huffed indignantly when Castiel kicked, unseating him. Grumbling, he slid off the bed, allowing Castiel to get up, and sat on the side, hands tucked under his thighs, swinging his legs.

"Were you aware you live too fucking far away? I mean what the hell, Cassie? I had to walk forever," he moaned, looking to see if he was garnering any sympathy. His mouth twisted in a frown; Castiel wasn't rising to the bait. "And the people! I musta scared at least half a dozen! Kinda amusing, actually. They were all, 'ahhhhh' and 'what is that thing'!"

Castiel finished changing into jeans and a light blue henley, turning to glare at Gabriel, just then noticing he wasn't wearing cover up or contacts. He frowned, moving forward and lightly touching Gabriel's cheek with his fingertips.

"Why?" He tilted his head, brows drawing together, squinting at his friend. Without his makeup and contacts, Gabriel was pale, his skin milky white, his lips bluish and his eyes pure white with dark pupils. He looked at his hand, fingers still on Gabriel's cheek; his skin was just as chalky. He let his hand fall to his side, clenching it into a fist.

"Why wear that crap? Why conform, toe the company line, do as we're told? This is who I am, Cassie. This is _what_ I am." He looked away from Castiel, pulling his arms up and wrapping them around himself in a hug before continuing quietly, his voice small, "Why should I have to change, hide who I am?

"It makes people more comfortable."

"Well, tough shit." Gabriel shot Castiel a dark look. "You haven't been in town, I take it?"

"Not much, not since last week." Castiel went into his bathroom, pulling his cover up and contact case out of the mirrored cabinet. He glanced past his reflection in the mirror, meeting Gabriel's pale eyes and smiling gently.

Gabriel's expression was flat, but his mouth twitched in response, an almost smile. He sat on the closed toilet, watching Castiel put on his cover up with an intense look on his face.

"There's signs up. PDS not welcome. Not everywhere, but in some places. I was in a shop, just looking at the candy, torturing myself. This guy introduces himself, I stick out my hand, thinking ya know, maybe make a friend. He takes my hand, and then the _look_ he gives me, Cassie, it was..."

His voice trailed off and he looked away, staring at the wall. After a moment of silence he turned back, shaking his head.

"I've never had anyone look at me like that before. I mean, I've annoyed people, live for it, actually, but he was disgusted and scared and I was like a bug or something to him. Never seen someone run that fast, and if you knew me, you'd know that's something."

"Dean found out I'm PDS," Castiel said quietly, gaze glued to the white porcelain of his sink. He glanced up, staring at his reflection. He looked normal now, blue eyes, tanned skin. It felt like armor, almost, a protection he felt he needed. He pulled his preloaded syringe out, holding it in place and closing his eyes as the medicine ripped through his body. Focusing on Gabriel helped keep him grounded and he breathed out with a sigh, putting the syringe away.

"What'd Princess do?"

"Ran. Stormed out, actually. Slammed the door and everything."

"His loss, my gain. You're hot as hell and you are going out with me."

"Gabriel, I don't think..."

"That's the point. We're not going to think," Gabriel said, grabbing Castiel's hand and tugging him along. Castiel wondered if he'd always travel with Gabriel this way, being pulled along, following the brasher man. "I'm done thinking. Done hiding and done being bored. We're gonna paint this town. I'd say red, but our blood is black, so there's that."

Laughing softly, Castiel allowed Gabriel to lead him along the hall, down the stairs, past Sam's startled gaze, out the door, and into whatever the day would bring.

~~*~~

The smooth burn of the whiskey was comforting, familiar. Dean tapped his empty glass, catching Ellen's eye and motioning for a refill. He glanced around the room. Gordon was holding court, loudly complaining that he'd had the misfortune of meeting one of the damned rotters this morning, just hanging out in a Sip and Go, like he actually belonged there. He was full of moan and piss, going on and on about how unnatural the man was, looking normal, looking human, but cold as hell. Dean snorted softly and tipped his glass up, downing his drink. He wasn't drunk yet, just buzzed, but the night was still early, and after the week he'd had, he needed this.

"You planning on slowing down any time soon, boy?"

Dean rolled his eyes. He took the smack upside the head pretty gracefully, he thought. Ellen could have been harder with it; she usually was when he was insolent towards her.

"I'm grown, _mom_ , I can drink as much as I like."

"Huh," Ellen said, tossing the towel she'd been wiping the bar with over her shoulder and leaning in close. She gripped Dean's chin, tilting it up, her warm brown eyes searching his. Dean allowed it. Ellen was one of the few people who were granted such liberties. She shook her head, letting him go, frowning.

"Dean, whatever has you so messed up, you need to fix it, and soon. Them bags under your eyes look about ready to go on a trip by themselves."

"Just not sleeping is all," Dean muttered, toying with his glass, not meeting Ellen's eyes.

"This have to do with that Castiel boy that's staying with your brother?"

"What, that rotter? It actually lives with your brother?" Gordon's voice was rough, right by his ear, and Dean nearly gagged at the rank smell that washed over him. He glared at Gordon. The man was too damn close. Gordon's lip curled in disgust and he raked his gaze over Dean. "And you _let_ it just go on?"

"Drop it, Walker," Dean said. Ellen had refilled his glass and he lifted it to his lips, tossing the liquor back.

"How the hell do you put up with that, Winchester? I thought you were one of us."

"I'm still a part of the Force, Gordon. Sam's got nothing to do with that and neither does Castiel."

"Oh, _Cas-tee-ell_. Got cozy with him, did you? Tell me, Winchester, you go over to your brother's and play with the rotter? I know you aren't very picky. Maybe you've hit that." Gordon barked a laugh, looking around the bar. There was laughter here and there, but not all the patrons looked pleased at his tirade.

"Come on, man, tell us. You let him touch you? Slip him the tongue? Worry he'd bite it off? Inquiring minds want to know." He laughed again, smirking. "Or maybe you like it up the ass. Is that it, Deano? Stick your ass up and spread it for that rotter?" He leaned in, almost nose to nose with Dean, whose jaw was clenched, his eyes cold and hard, mouth pulled into a sharp frown. "Is his wang cold?"

"Fuck you, Walker," Dean hissed, shoving the offensive man away. "I wouldn't...That's disgusting. As if I would ever consider letting one of them touch me."

" _Nice_ , Princess."

The cold, furious voice made Dean cringe and he turned towards the door, his stomach sinking. Of course, Castiel stood there, with that weird one by his side, Gabriel, he thought his name was. Castiel's eyes were wide, his cheeks flushed, his expression pained. Dean swallowed hard, opening his mouth, to say what he had no clue, when Gordon interrupted him.

"Jesus Christ, what the hell is wrong with you?" Gordon yelled, moving forward with his hands clenched in fists. "You ain't welcome, boy."

"That's enough!" Ellen had the particular talent of making anyone cringe when she wished, and even Gordon shrank in on himself at the rage in her voice. "You get out of here, Gordon Walker, and you don't come back."

"Ellen!"

"Get, before I make you." Her hand drifted below the bar. Everyone knew about the shotgun that rested there, and Gordon wasted no time pushing past Gabriel and Castiel, shoving Gabriel with his shoulder.

The bar was painfully silent, watching the tableau of the three men who could only stare at each other. Finally, Gabriel snorted, glaring at Dean, approaching the bar.

"So, boys, since I know you can't drink, what can I do for you?" Ellen said, her gaze flicking to Dean before returning to Gabriel.

"I was trying to cheer Cassie up, seeing as he's had his heart broken," Gabriel said, looking pointedly at Dean, who flushed. "We just wanted to play some pool, maybe listen to some music."

"Pool, right here!"

Gabriel turned to see a disheveled man approach them. He looked disreputable, torn jeans, sleeveless shirt, and messy brown hair in a mullet, grimy and grubby, but his grin was warm and welcoming. He held out his hand, showing no reaction as he pumped first Gabriel's hand, then Castiel's.

"Name's Ash," he said flipping his long brown hair off his shoulders. "Come on, we'll get a game going."

Castiel glanced at Dean, but he had already turned back to the bar, his head down, ignoring the two men. Castiel sighed, allowing Gabriel to lead him to the back of the bar where the tables stood.

"You're a fool, Dean."

"What?" Dean raised his eyes to Ellen, his gaze questioning. He shook his head. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"Of course you don't."

She walked away, leaving Dean confused. A loud burst of laughter came from the pool tables and he looked over. Castiel was smiling at something someone had said, probably Gabriel. His grin was wide and gummy and Dean groaned, trying to ignore that flutter in his chest at how stunning he was. It simply wasn't fair. Cas was funny and amazing and hot, and why did he have to be a _rotter_?

He twisted back to the bar and contemplated the glass of amber liquid in front of him, frowning. He'd always been shit at relationships. He'd never let anyone get close because there was no point. At first it had been raising Sammy. Couldn't put anyone before his brother, that was the rule. He slid into the pattern of love 'em and leave 'em and it had worked for so long. He'd never bothered getting to know his sexual partners, because why bother? They didn't want him, his nightmares, they didn't know him and he liked it like that. He'd only let that guard down once, and it hadn't ended well. It'd only taken one bad episode, him screaming and lashing out, and Lisa had gently suggested he move on.

Maybe that was the mistake. He should have just fucked Cas and let it go at that. But now, he'd gotten to know the man, talking with him and hanging out, learning about him. He hadn't pushed the sex because he'd believed Cas was, well not fragile, but not ready for that. He'd thought it was the amnesia but damn, it'd been the PDS all along. Another round of laughter from the pool tables crawled under his skin, irritating him.

He was glad he'd found out, before he got too close. Dodged a bullet, really. Pushing away from the bar, he threw down some money and stalked out. He'd go to another bar, find some warm body, and forget about Castiel, the PDS, everything.

He stumbled a bit walking in the parking lot and stopped, tipping his head back and groaning. He was more than buzzed. Too much more to risk Baby, or anyone's life by driving. Patting his pockets, he searched for his phone, frowning when he couldn't seem to find it. Fuck. He'd have to go back in the bar. This night was just perfect.

"Here."

He whirled at the soft, deep voice, flushing as he met Castiel's eyes. Cas held out his phone, keeping a decent distance from Dean.

"I mean, if you don't think it's tainted or anything."

Dean flinched, but he did kind of deserve the bitter comment. He reached out, taking his phone.

"Cas, I..."

"It's all right, Dean. You don't want to let normal people think you aren't normal, too. That'd be too much, wouldn't it? To act on your own, think for your own." Castiel glared and frowned at Dean, his eyes dark with anger.

"You think that's it?" Dean's eyes narrowed and he surged forward, getting in Cas's face. "You have no idea. I _watched_ , Cas. I saw them crack my mom's head open, saw them eating. I was so freaking scared, and I thought my dad would save me, but they got him, too. Then they came after me and Sam and I ran." He swallowed hard, glaring at Cas, who stared at him in wide eyed shock. "You know what that's like? To listen to your mom scream, to _hear_ them eating her? No, you don't because _you were the one doing the fucking eating_!"

He shouted that last bit, shaking and barely in control. Castiel hesitantly reached out, quickly withdrawing his hand when Dean flinched. Dean took a step back, putting some space between them.

"I hunted them, every last rabid rotter, with the Force. I'm not sorry about that, Cas. You don't have a clue. How can I...when it was one of you that killed them? And now, we're just supposed to ignore all that, it's supposed to be ok, but it's not, Cas. It's not ok."

Dean turned away, wiping his eyes. He'd deny the tears that leaked if anyone asked. Castiel sighed, looking down at the parking lot concrete. He was still angry at Dean, still hurt by the rejection, but he also felt sympathy. He wasn't sure he could ever make Dean see the other side, but he had to try.

"I can't say I understand, Dean. I know what you went through wasn't easy and can't be easily forgotten. And I can't even say it wasn't me, because you _know_ it wasn't me. But would you blame someone who was under the influence of drugs, if they committed murder?"

"If they took the drugs they need to face the consequences."

"But we didn't ask for this. And we had no control over it. What do you think it's like, Dean, to live with the knowledge that you took someone's life away, and you didn't even _know_? I can't ever make that right. I can't bring back the people that I hurt. And I had no choice in the matter, none! Just as I had no choice in being cured and I have no choice in what I am." Cas's voice was bleak and broken.

"What do you want from me, Cas?" Dean sounded tired, defeated. He turned back around, his eyes searching Castiel's face, his expression blank. 

"An honest answer."

Dean shot him a sharp look, searching his face, then nodding.

"Did you want me? Before you knew?"

"Cas..." Dean didn't want to answer. He didn't want to admit that if Cas were alive, he'd be with him in a heartbeat.

"Honest, Dean. Can you do that? It's yes or no."

"Yes."

The answer was so quiet he almost missed it. Castiel looked away, wrapping his arms around himself and squeezing.

"I wanted you, too, against my better judgment. I still do want you. However, I also understand that my condition must be something that you cannot overlook, and I accept that. Could we," he paused, glancing at Dean, hope in his eyes, "could we still be friends, though? I've really missed talking to you, and I don't have many friends here."

"I don't know, Cas." Dean's chest squeezed painfully at the distressed, hurt look on Cas's face. "I'll think about it, ok? I have the Force to think of, and I'm not sure if I can do it."

"Fair enough." Castiel turned to walk away, then stopped, looking over his shoulder. "I'll see you around, Dean. I'll be here if you need me."

Dean only nodded, glancing away. He waited until he heard Cas go back inside before starting up his phone to call a cab.

~~*~~

They didn't stay long at the bar. Castiel was quiet and Gabriel knew just why. He tucked his arm in Castiel's, knocking lightly against him.

"Want to go to my house and watch a horrible movie?"

"I should get back. I've been gone all day," Castiel said softly.

"Then I'll come to your house. I'm not leaving you alone right now. You might do something crazy, like not wash the dishes, or leave your clothes on the floor."

"Gabriel," Castiel protested, but he was laughing.

They caught a cab, tumbling out at Sam's house. Sam wasn't awake when they entered, but Castiel took that as a good sign that maybe Sam finally trusted him. He led Gabriel into the living room and settled with him on the couch, letting Gabriel pick out a movie.

"Really?" he asked, eyebrow raised when the logo for Case Erotica appeared on the on demand screen menu. Gabriel was in the process of selecting 'Laura Croft: Womb Raider'.

"Yeah, guess it's not that great a friend movie. But you gotta check it out sometime!"

Castiel rolled his eyes and grabbed the remote, flipping through the channels and settling on 'I Am Legend'. Gabriel snorted at his choice, but settled next to him, lying down with his head in Castiel's lap.

They watched the movie, then Gabriel flipped it to a late night show, and Castiel yawned, feeling sleepy. He offered Gabriel the couch for the night, figuring Sam wouldn't mind. Gabriel accepted, standing when Castiel did and pulling him into a hug.

"You know you're great, Cassie. He just can't see it. He's too bigoted and not all that bright."

Castiel huffed and pulled away from Gabriel, smacking him lightly on the arm. "He's hurt, and I remind him of that hurt. I understand."

"Just because you understand it doesn't make it right." Gabriel offered a smile.

"I'll just have to get past it, then," Castiel said softly, returning the smile. "Good night, Gabriel."

"Night!"

Castiel climbed the stairs and went into his bedroom. He made short work of his bedtime ritual and slid into bed with a sigh, falling asleep quickly.

When he woke, the house was quiet. He dressed quickly and put on his cover up and contacts before heading downstairs, almost worried about what he'd find. Sam was no where to be found and he didn't respond when Castiel called for him, but Gabriel answered from the den. Castiel walked in, finding Gabriel at the computer.

"Hey, Cassie, check this out."

"Where's Sam?" he asked, moving forward to see what Gabriel wanted him to look at.

"He left already. He said he'd be gone all day. Making the rounds he called it." Gabriel started the video he had paused, moving the cursor to the beginning so that Castiel could see all of it. "This guy, he calls himself the Prophet. He's helping PDS people."

A man was wreathed in shadow. He sat against a black cloth backdrop, and although the camera shed some light, there was no way to tell any identifying features of the man. When Gabriel pressed play and a distorted, calm, but passionate voice began to speak.

"I know how you feel. I know how you feel because I was was once where you are now: full of unanswered questions. Frightened. Confused. Filled to the brim with guilt. I was like you, but then my heart was opened and I no longer felt afraid. I no longer felt ashamed. I felt sure of purpose. Because I finally understood we have a purpose, brothers and sisters, a divine purpose that must be fulfilled. Make no mistake, we are truly blessed. Remember: 'God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes. For when they shall rise from the dead, they are as the angels which are in heaven'."

Castiel quickly paused the video, looking over at Gabriel. Gabriel smiled tightly at him, his eyes darting back and forth as he tried to gauge Castiel's reaction.

"He's talking about us, Cassie. That we're worth more than we think. We don't deserve how we're treated."

"But what does he mean, divine purpose?" Castiel squinted at Gabriel, puzzled.

"It's a call, for people like us to join him. There's instructions, directions to a place he has set up. He's going to make it better for us."

"How, Gabriel? If he's so good, why is he hidden?"

"Because people like Princess would want to stop him from helping us." Gabriel got up with a huff of irritation. He ran his fingers through his hair, pacing in the study. "I'm going to join him. I'm going to his compound, or whatever it is."

"Gabriel, please don't leave," Castiel pleaded. He had few friends in this town, and he really did like Gabriel.

"It'll be fine, Cassie, you'll see. We'll create a new world, one where we're welcomed, where we don't have to hide who we are. It's a good thing." Gabriel laid a reassuring hand on Castiel's shoulder and squeezed gently. "I'll be all right. This guy, he's what we need."

"I can't talk you out of this, can I?" Castiel smiled sadly, his eyes glimmering with unshed tears.

"No," Gabriel said, pulling Castiel into a hug. "No, little brother, you can't. But if I remember, I'll write. I'll let you know it's ok and tell you of all the fabulous things I'm doing."

"You better," Castiel replied, squeezing Gabriel tightly. "I'll come with you, help you pack, see you off. Okay?"

"That sounds great," Gabriel said, grinning.

Castiel followed him out of the house, walking beside him along the road. He couldn't stop Gabriel, he knew this, and he was going to worry about him. He hoped this 'Prophet' was really a good thing, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of dread about the whole situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [Tumblr](http://monkeyscomewithme.tumblr.com). Feel free to come pester me.
> 
> Thanks to all who read, comment, and kudo. Y'all rock!


	5. To Be Hated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting worse for PDS sufferers, and Cas is no longer sure of where he stands in Lawrence or with Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to keep it in the same sort of pacing that In The Flesh has. Not sure I succeeded. :/
> 
> I'm not sure when I'll update but this will be a multi chapter fic. I'll do my best to update regularly.
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are always welcomed.

He could see the words from the driveway. Giant, dripping, bright red letters spray painted on the clapboard siding of his childhood home. _Rotter_ , over and over again, and there, on the garage door, in equally garish neon green, _Get Out_. Dean swallowed hard, pulling Baby up to the house and getting out, staring wide eyed at the hateful words.

He walked around the house, noticing other damage. A few windows were broken in, glass scattered in the ground and grass underneath them. It looked like someone took a hammer to one section of the wall; it was beaten in and the wood was splintered. It was when he rounded the corner leading to the garden that he actually gasped in surprise, though. The garden was ripped up, torn to shreds. All the vegetables and flowers Cas had so carefully planted and tended to with love were lying on the ground, roots shriveling in the warm summer heat. Their stems and blooms were crushed and there were boot prints all around, it's they'd been stomped on.

"Your group did a good job, didn't they?"

Dean whirled, startled by the harsh comment, surprised to see Sam staring at him with an angry look.

"My group? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean, Dean," Sam said, looking pointedly at the HVF band on Dean's arm.

Self consciously, Dean put his hand around it. He'd stopped by on his way after patrol and he honestly forgot it was there. He shook his head, frowning.

"This wasn't my guys, Sam. They'd never do this. I wouldn't do this."

"Really?"

Sam moved then, turning to walk further around the house. Dean sighed and followed him, biting back a complaint when Sam stopped suddenly. He pointed, and Dean followed the line of his arm and finger, feeling his face flush with anger. The side of the wall was branded with an enormous 'HVF' and a red circle with 'PDS' inside with a wide slash through it.

"Sam, I'm sorry. It wasn't me, or Jo, or Bobby. Hell, no one I work with would do something like this." Dean chewed his lip, then it suddenly hit him. "Gordon."

"Walker?" Sam turned and walked away again, headed back to the garden.

"Yeah. We kicked him out of the HVF. They want us capturing the rabids now, turning them in so they can be treated. Gordon complained about it, nearly gave Bobby a fit, and Bobby threw him out. Gordon said we should just kill them all, even the rehabilitated ones. He said they were all dangerous and he was gonna shoot first, whether it was a rabid or not. Bobby said we didn't need someone going off on their own, being dangerous. Gordon stormed out and Jo and I left for patrol. That was hours ago. I think Bobby was going to warn Jody about him."

They were at the edge of the garden now and Sam bent down and began to gather plants. Dean knelt down to help, sadly realizing that none of the plants could be saved.

"Does he know?" he asked, glancing at Sam. Sam turned to him with an arched brow; Dean could hear how upset his brother was in the clipped tones of his answer.

"Cas, you mean?" Sam huffed. "No, he doesn't yet. He's working for Ellen now, at the Roadhouse, busing tables. I'm planning to have this mostly cleaned up before he gets off."

"Sam," Dean began delicately, knowing how his brother was likely to react to what he'd say, "are you sure Cas staying here is a good idea? I mean, if this kinda stuff is going on..."

"Seriously, Dean?" Sam stood suddenly, scowling down at Dean. "How could you even say that? He has no one. He's all alone and he can't remember anything. I know you've got your stupid prejudice and fine, that's great for you, but Cas doesn't need to bear the brunt of it."

"I'm not saying he should, I'm just asking if it's safe," Dean protested, standing as well to face his brother.

"I can't believe you. Look, I know how you feel about PDS sufferers and while I've kept my mouth mostly shut, enough is enough. It's in the past, Dean. You can't keep dragging all this crap out over and over. You need to move on. Cas has never done anything to you, me, or anyone here. He doesn't deserve this," he swept his hand towards the house, indicating the graffiti, "and neither do I. He's a good guy and he's my friend. If you can't accept that, if you can't accept him, then we have a real problem." Sam sighed heavily, running his fingers through his hair.

"It's not that I can't accept him. I like him," Dean said, his voice quiet. "Like him more than I should or want to."

"You're the only one holding yourself back."

"Really." Dean gave his brother a disbelieving look. "What happened to 'leave him alone, Dean' and 'off limits'?"

"I knew you'd react badly when you found out he was PDS." Sam sounded completely exasperated now and he closed his eyes, drawing in a steadying breath and letting it out noisily. "I didn't want you hurt. Or him, which is exactly what happened."

"Because you hid the fact that he was different from me, Sam. You lied to me about it."

"We didn't lie, we just didn't tell the whole truth." Sam shook his head. "Dean, you have to move past this. Does it really mean so much that he's PDS? Do you hate him for that?" He frowned when Dean looked away, unable to meet his eyes. "Please tell me you don't agree with this? With what Gordon is saying?"

"Of course not!" Dean crossed his arms against his chest and glared at Sam. "You act like it's my fault this happened!"

"It kind of is, Dean." Sam bent and picked up the pile of plants he'd gathered and walked over to the compost heap, knowing Dean would follow. "I heard what happened in the bar. You've made it very clear that you don't see Cas, or any of the others, as human. The HVF takes their cues from you and Bobby, and the town takes their cues from the HVF. People all over have been subtly discriminating against PDS sufferers, and you and the rest of the town just sit back and watch it happen without saying anything."

"They aren't human, Sam," Dean snapped, throwing his pile of plants down. "They're..."

"I think you should leave," Sam interrupted. "I'll finish up on my own. Good bye, Dean."

"Sam." Dean tried to talk to his brother, but he walked quickly away. "Sam! Son of a bitch."

Angry now, at Sam, at Gordon, hell, even at himself, Dean stormed around the house, got into his car and drove away in a peal of squealing tires.

~~*~~

Castiel listened to the chatter and flow of conversation around him, letting it wash over him without actually paying attention. There was a meditative calm to his work, arrange the dishes just so in his pan, spray the table, wipe, dry, move on to the next one. He liked what he did, as menial as it was, and was content to be a part of the background. He found, too, that most people treated him like he was no more than a fixture, forgetting he was there as they talked, and that he often heard things that he supposed he wasn't meant to. It was how he knew that more than a few houses in Lawrence, all houses where PDS sufferers lived, had been targeted by vandals who'd destroyed property and tagged the homes.

He kept his head down and ignored the talk after the first few conversations. He didn't really need the reminder that he was other, unwelcome, unwanted. With a sigh, he turned his steps to the kitchen and dropped his tub off at the dishwasher, giving Garth, the other busboy, a weak smile.

"Want to switch?" Garth asked. "I can go out and be the whipping boy for a while?"

"No," Castiel answered, shaking his head. "You know your cover up comes off when you're doing dishes."

"It's the steam." Garth grinned. "Can't keep the dumb stuff on."

"It's not too bad." Cas closed his eyes and tilted his head back. sighing deeply when he heard his name shouted from the bar. "Guess I better get out there," he said.

Garth snorted and turned back to the dishes, lifting the door of the metal monstrosity he manned. Castiel left him to the piles of food crusted plates and dirty cups and walked through the kitchen door, pasting a smile on his face. Ellen returned the smile, gesturing him over to the bar. A young woman sat there, bright brown eyes darting around the room, her brown skin pale, her grimace nervous. She blinked at Cas and nodded, but didn't extend a hand, both of those were wrapped around a glass of water that she twisted on the wooden surface of the bar.

"Cas, this here is Aisha. She's here looking for her family." Ellen leaned in, lowering her voice. "She's like you. I think you should take her to Sam."

"No, I told you, I just need to find my brother. He always took care of me. He'll do that now." Aisha smiled tightly. "I remember where we lived, but I went there and the house was empty. It doesn't look like anyone's lived there for a while."

"Sam can help you find your brother," Castiel soothed. "He helps all of us. I'll give him a call."

"All right." Aisha dropped her gaze to her glass of water and went silent.

Castiel shared a glance with Ellen, who shrugged and went to serve a customer at the end of the bar. He stepped away and pulled his phone out, dialing Sam's number. The conversation was short, Sam said he'd be right there, and Castiel passed that message along to Aisha.

He grabbed his tub and walked around the bar, returning to work. It wasn't difficult to fall back into a zone, clear, clean, wipe, dry, but he was startled out of it when the entire bar went suddenly silent. The TV, which until now had displayed various sporting events, was showing a news segment. A very serious, severe looking woman was on the screen, next to rotating scenes of fire, blood, and the rubble of a wrecked subway train.

"Sources say a group of PDS sufferers, labeling themselves the Undead Liberation Army, have made terrorist attacks in three major cities, attacking people by biting and setting off explosives, causing massive casualties and in some cases, death. We do not yet know the death toll, as first responders are still working the scene. Officials have hastened to reassure us that these attacks are isolated."

The scene now cut to a handsome man in a tailored three piece suit, standing behind a podium with a bank of microphones in front of him. Flashbulbs went off around him and people shouted questions, but all went quiet when he held up his hand.

"I know we are all worried, and I just want to assure you, we are doing all we can to find out just who these terrorists are and where they are. Please know that I personally have made it my mission to track them down and bring them to justice. We are saddened by this attack, and our hearts go out to those who have lost family members."

He paused, leaning forward, looking over the room, before staring straight into the camera. His brown eyes were so cold that Castiel felt a chill run through him.

"You are all well aware of where I stand on the PDS situation and I am truly sorry that my fears have been proven right. The danger of a PDS sufferer going off their medication is well known, and today, we have seen the effect of that. There are families who will never see their loved ones again because we ignored the monster right here in our midst. I can assure you that there will be repercussions, that we are taking this seriously, and we will do everything within our power to prevent such a tragedy from occurring again."

"Senator Roman.."

The TV shut down with a snap and Ellen slammed the remote on the bar. Castiel stood frozen, his eyes darting around the bar at all the unfriendly faces looking at him. He glanced at Ellen, his gaze pleading. She came from around the bar and slid her arm around his shoulder, pulling him close.

"That man's a bigot, Cas, and a jackass to boot. Everyone here knows you'd never be like that."

"Ellen, are you just going to ignore..." One of a group of men sitting around a table spoke up.

"I'm gonna do what's best, what's right, Darius."

"But letting them in here..."

"Should I block anyone with brown skin from coming in," Ellen angrily interrupted the man again, causing his tan skin to flush in embarrassment and irritation, "just because some idiots with dark skin do evil? Should I ban cops?" She gestured towards Deputy Jones, who gave her a flat look in return. "I mean, they've been killing kids all over this nation. I am not going to blame people who've done no wrong for things other people have done."

She glared around the room, staring down anyone who challenged her. Giving Castiel a side hug, she moved away, walking back behind the bar. Picking up the remote, she turned the TV back on, flipping channels until she found a game show. Castiel slowly continued his work, relieved when conversation started back up again. The mood in the bar was tense, but not angry, and he was able to ignore the few stares he felt drilling into his back. Some of the customers even smiled at him and one older lady patted his arm and said he was a good boy.

He smirked at that and walked behind the bar and into the kitchen with a full load for Garth. By the time he made it back out, Sam was gone with Aisha, and he had more tables to clean, so he plugged on.

He was tired by the time his shift was done and stepping out into the summer night was a relief. The air was clear, the night sky was beautiful and it wasn't too warm. There was a slight breeze blowing, the stars were out - well, what could be seen with the town as full as light as Lawrence was. Castiel was deciding whether or not to walk, wondering how dangerous that might be for him, when he noticed the long, black car sitting under a street light in the parking lot. His stomach fluttered a bit and he swallowed hard. Dean still made him nervous, both an arousing excitement and a slight sense of apprehension.

"Get in, Cas, I won't bite." Dean leaned out the window and smiled.

Wordlessly, Castiel obeyed, walking around to the passenger side and swinging the heavy door open. He slid into the soft leather seat, sighing slightly as he sank in, pulling the door shut.

"You need a moment alone with her?" Dean teased.

"Your car is very comfortable," Cas admitted. He buckled his seatbelt and settled in.

Dean started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, turning towards home. Castiel glanced at him, but he was driving staring straight ahead, hands clenched at two and ten on the wheel, mouth set in a determined line. Castiel turned his head and, rolling down the window, let the wind caress his face. He wasn't sure what Dean wanted, why he'd come to pick him up, but he sensed a conversation was coming. He didn't know if he was up to it.

They rode in silence, finally pulling into the driveway. Castiel could feel tears spring to his eyes when he saw what the house looked like. He climbed out of the Impala, walking up to the garage and lightly touching the tacky paint with his fingertips.

"It wasn't me, Cas," Dean said softly, coming up behind him. "But I haven't done enough to stop things like this from happening."

"It isn't your fault," Cas protested. He turned to face Dean, who shrugged and turned away.

"All it takes for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing," Dean quoted. He began to walk around the house, looking over his shoulder to see if Castiel was following. "I'm not saying I'm suddenly good with the PDS thing. I think I'm on that road, though. I know this shit is wrong and shouldn't happen. I've been thinking a lot today and, I don't know, I guess I've been realizing I got some stuff to work through."

Castiel stopped short at the sight of the garden, tears spilling freely down his face now. The ground was ripped up and all his prized plants were gone. In their place, however, were newly planted flowers and vegetables, their tender stalks swaying slightly in the light breeze.

"I worked all evening. I don't know if I got the right plants," Dean confessed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "But I tried, Cas, I tried. I'm sorry I haven't been decent to you, or Sam. But I do like you, Cas, and I'm trying."

"Dean, this is..."

Castiel whirled, throwing his arms around Dean and hugging him fiercely. Dean stiffened at first, but relaxed and put his arms around Castiel, returning the hug. Castiel buried his face in Dean's neck, taking in a deep breath. This was too much. First the attacks on the news, then the damage done to his home, his garden, and now this, Dean taking the time to carefully replant his plants. He was angry, he was sad, he felt loved and hated at the same time, but all of that faded at the feel of Dean in his arms, his scent filling his nose.

"Cas..." Dean's voice was rough and his arms around Castiel tightened.

Castiel pulled away slightly, his eyes searching Dean's face. Dean's eyes were wide, his pupils huge and he licked his lips, his head moving just ever so slightly forward. Castiel tilted his head, closing his eyes and moaning when Dean kissed him. The arms holding him pulled him roughly forward, their hips sliding neatly together, and Castiel wound his arms around Dean's neck, slipping his hands into Dean's hair.

The kiss deepened, mouths opening, tongues sliding in and out. Dean's hands roamed his lower back and gripped his ass, jerking him closer. Castiel broke the kiss, resting his forehead against Dean's, panting. He looked at Dean, searching for hesitation, for repulsion or disgust, but Dean only looked aroused, his cheeks flushed, lips red and full, eyes dark. Dean's lips curved up and Castiel answered with a smirk before tilting his head and kissing Dean again, nipping at his lip. He could listen to the sound of Dean's moans forever, he decided, tightening the fingers in Dean's hair.

The sound of a car door slamming drove them apart, both gasping for breath. Dean tried to adjust himself, but gave it up as a lost cause, pulling his shirt free to hang down over the front of his pants. Castiel had better luck, he was wearing khakis for work. By the time Sam rounded the corner of the house, they both looked over warm, but relatively normal.

"Cas, I'm glad you're here. I went by the bar to give you a ride, but Ellen said you'd left already. I was worried."

"Dean gave me a ride," Castiel explained. He pointed to his plants. "And he replanted everything."

"Really?" Sam smiled softly at Dean. "That was nice. Thank you."

"Yeah, well, it's the least I can do," Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Did you get Aisha settled?" Castiel asked.

"I found her family. We'll see how it goes." Sam turned towards the house, sighing. "I need to go into the clinic tomorrow. I wanted to get this taken care of, though," he indicated the graffiti.

"I can call in, Sam, Ellen will understand."

"And I'll help. I'm not working tomorrow. Cas and I'll have this place repainted in no time. Plus, I'm going to need to replace the windows anyway."

"Do you want to sleep here tonight?" Sam started walking to the door, followed by Castiel and Dean.

"Nah, I'm good. I'll be by in the morning, around ten or so. That good, Cas?" Dean backed away from the door, hands in his pockets.

"Yes, Dean, that will be fine."

Castiel tried to smile at Dean, but he avoided his eyes and turned to leave without saying goodbye. With a sigh, Castiel followed Sam into the house, locking the door behind him.

~~*~~

Paint smelled horrible, Castiel decided, and the feel of it dripping down his arm was decidedly unpleasant. He glanced at Dean, who was painting in wide even strokes with a paint sprayer, leaving Castiel to do the trim work. Dean was silent, had been all morning. The chug of the sprayer made it difficult to talk, though, so Castiel held out a slim hope that it was the machine that kept Dean from responding to him. They had been at this for hours and Castiel was tired, so he stepped back, putting his brush in the pan and began to wipe his hands off. Dean must have noticed, because the machine stopped.

"Break for lunch?" Dean asked, watching Castiel wipe down.

"For you, maybe." Castiel grinned when Dean rolled his eyes. He followed the man into the house, sitting at the table and watching Dean put together a sandwich. "Dean, about last night..."

"Yeah, about that, let's not." Dean put his plate down a bit too hard and pulled a chair out, flopping into it. He didn't look up from his food, picking up his sandwich and taking a huge bite.

"Let's not what?" Castiel asked, his voice hard. "I'm becoming weary of never knowing where I stand with you."

"I just don't want to talk about it," Dean said, anger coloring his voice as well. "Jeez, Cas, we gotta dissect everything?"

"We kissed, Dean. And it was amazing."

"It was a mistake," Dean countered. "I mean, we're supposed to just be friends. Friends don't go around kissing each other. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have let it happen."

"Let it happen. All right." Castiel stood and walked to the door.

"Cas, don't be like that."

"Like what, Dean?" Castiel whirled, completely exasperated with this man. "Don't be upset that you think I'm a mistake? Don't be confused about what you really want? Confused about what I want? Dean, I can't keep doing this."

"I'm sorry, okay?" Dean stood and reached out, pulling his hand back in hurt when Castiel jerked away.

"No. You don't get to touch me right now," Castiel said, crossing his arms.

"You're acting..."

"Let's just get back to painting the house." Castiel left the kitchen, slamming the door behind him, leaving Dean standing in the kitchen, staring after him.

~~*~~

"You're sure of this, Uriel?"

Uriel nodded, gaze locked on the shadowed figure in front of him. The room was dark, dingy, just a rundown hotel room in a nameless neighborhood. They always met this way, some big city, in an anonymous, no name hotel, always moving. It was necessary to stay off the radar, off the grid.

"They separated us very effectively, but I was able to track the first group. Three went to a small town in Texas, two are here in this very city, but the one I spoke to you of is in Lawrence, Kansas."

"And you believe he's the One."

"I believe he could be. He's an odd one, I'll give you that, and a bit contrary."

"Would he listen if you were to talk to him? Persuade him to our cause?"

"That I am unsure of," Uriel said, regret tinging his voice.

"Try, Uriel. Take Balthazar and Ramiel. We need to know. This is so very important. We must not fail to find the One."

"I will not fail you." Uriel bowed, seeing this as the dismissal it was. He left the room, not even sparing a glance at the two men guarding the door. He moved swiftly, headed back to the flop house to find the two who were to accompany him.

It wasn't a long walk. Uriel ignored the looks he garnered, but he did note the number of times the 'normals' shifted away from him, some even crossing the street. Like everyone in the movement, he refused to wear the cover up and contacts. It was foolish, those that hid behind the mask of humanity. No, he wouldn't because he was more than human. He was the next step.

It was just as the Prophet said. They were the chosen, the angels of resurrection. These plebians, these humans were beneath his kind. He only hoped he could sway his brother over to his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [Tumblr](http://monkeyscomewithme.tumblr.com). Feel free to come pester me.
> 
> Thanks to all who read, comment, and kudo. Y'all rock!


	6. When I smile, tell me some bad news

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ULA is making waves that are causing reactions in Lawrence, complicating Cas's life even further. Add in a reunion, a flirty Balthazar, and Cas's world is quickly becoming unstable. 
> 
> Crossover of Supernatural and In The Flesh. 
> 
> If you're unfamiliar with either show, here are the wikis:
> 
> http://intheflesh.wikia.com/wiki/In_The_Flesh_Wiki
> 
> http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/index.php?title=Main_Page

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Linneart's drawings on tumblr. 
> 
> http://linneart.tumblr.com/post/94470332575
> 
> I tried to keep it in the same sort of pacing that In The Flesh has. Not sure I succeeded. :/
> 
> I'm not sure when I'll update but this will be a multi chapter fic. I'll do my best to update regularly. However, I am going to college to be a special education elementary teacher. This means I have less time to write and update, so I apologize. Just know none of my stories are abandoned, and I'll do what I can, when I can. Thank you for your patience. 
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are always welcomed.

"Two more cities were attacked this week, bringing the total for the month to six..." 

_click_

"...state that they have no suspects at this time. The Undead Liberation Army is taking credit for the subway bombing..." 

_click_

"...new law passed, requiring all PDS sufferers to register with their local law enforcement..." 

**_click_ **

"Would you be able to give me a ride?" Castiel asked softly, standing at the bottom of the stairs. He stared at the blank TV screen, mouth pulled into a frown, his brow creased in frustration. 

Sam jumped slightly and twisted around, looking over the back of the couch. "I didn't know you were there," he said, pushing his hair back. "Did you hear all that?" 

Cas nodded. "I got a call from Jody. That's why I need the ride. I have to go register." 

"Cas, this is..." Sam paused, pulling in a deep breath. "I'm sorry." Sam held his hands out at his side and shrugged. 

Castiel looked away from his pitying gaze, shifting his weight and crossing his arms. He listened as Sam got up, the clinking sound indicating he'd found his keys, and silently followed him out the door. He irrationally felt as if he should say something to ease Sam’s guilt, but there was nothing to say. The ride to the police station was tense, quiet.

They pulled up to the brick building and walked through the doors. There were ten or so PDS sufferers milling in the lobby and Castiel went to the front desk to sign in. He took a seat, sitting up straight, hands in his lap, gaze focused on a board with various fliers and wanted pictures posted on it. Sam circled the room, speaking quietly with his patients, attempting to soothe them. Castiel felt humiliated and angry, but there was nothing he could do about it at the moment. 

"Castiel?" 

Castiel stood and followed the man behind the desk and into an office. Jody sat behind a huge, oak desk that was unsurprisingly neat and tidy. There were folders on the desk, and each one was labelled with a name. Castiel recognized his name, Gabriel's, Aiesha's and Garth's, and assumed they all pertained to PDS sufferers. Nothing much else was on the desk, just the folders and a picture of Jody's family and a huge cup of steaming coffee. Jody smiled tightly at him, her eyes dull and tired, the smile not reaching them. She held out her hand, shaking Castiel's hand firmly. 

"I'm very sorry," she apologized, pulling out a form.

"It's not you," Cas answered softly. 

"Still, I'll make this as painless as possible." 

Cas nodded, leaning forward. Jody asked simple questions, who he was staying with, when he took his medication, who provided it, did anyone monitor whether he took it or not... It was degrading. His shoulders and neck ached from tension, and he could feel a thread of pain throb up the back of his head as he frowned deeply at Jody. 

"Who gets this information?" 

"It stays here, locally, Cas," she reassured. She sighed, a harsh huff out her mouth. "I really don't like this, but my hands are tied." She glanced at the closed door and leaned over the desk, her voice lowered. "I'm not letting anyone see these damn files without me knowing, and deciding it's for a good reason. I promise you." 

Castiel blinked and studied her, his gaze sweeping over her drawn brows, mouth pulled into a straight line, eyes focused and determined. He relaxed slightly, offering a small smile. "Who?" 

"My son," Jody said, leaning back in her chair. She smiled softly at the picture of her family, tapping her son's image. "He died of a fever. Got bit by some bug on a hunting trip and it became infected and they said they couldn't do anything. When he came back, I was..." She stopped for a moment, closing her eyes, swallowing hard. "Then the medicine came and I got my little boy back." 

Castiel nodded and took a deep breath. "Is this all then?" 

"Almost," Jody said. "Do you happen to know a Gabriel? He's listed as living in the town, but I couldn't locate him." 

"Uh, he went to visit some friends," Castiel said. He smiled and looked away, staring at the walls. He'd felt an icy shiver when she asked about Gabriel. He hadn't heard from his friend in a while, and with all the attacks going on, he was very worried about him. 

"What kind of friends?" 

The sharp tone of the question made Castiel turn his gaze to Jody and he met her eyes steadily. 

"He wouldn't hurt anyone, Jody, I promise. He's not involved in this Army."

"For his sake and yours, I hope you're right." 

' _So do I,_ ' Castiel thought. 

~~*~~

The ride back home was quiet. Castiel watched the scenery go by, colors and movement passing in a blur. Sam was talking but Castiel had tuned him out. He wasn't trying to be rude, but he was worried about Gabriel, worried about this new law, and of course, there was the issue of Dean and his hot and cold attitude.

"So, I thought you could just do yours in the clinic."

"I'm sorry, Sam, do my what?" Castiel turned his head to Sam, who was frowning at the windshield. 

"You haven't been listening."

"I apologize. I've been distracted."

"It's all right," Sam said, smiling tightly. "You have to do community service, too. Along with registering."

"Really?"

Sam flinched at Castiel's cold tone, but nodded. "It's supposed to be a way to give back."

"For what?" Castiel studied Sam.

"Look, I didn't make these new laws..."

"It's a safe town, welcoming. That's what you told me." Castiel sat back then, staring straight ahead, refusing to look at Sam. "This isn't fair. I can't help what I am, what I've done, but I can help what I do now. I've got a job, I'm careful and I never make waves. I don't talk to people, I don't even look them in the eye most of the time, and do you know why? Because they don't want to look and see me. And despite following all your petty rules, despite hiding myself and being a good little soldier, I'm still seen as a danger and something less than human."

"I understand," Sam began, as they pulled up to the house.

"No, you don't," Castiel retorted. He slipped from the car and slammed the door, going inside and up the stairs before Sam could even get out of the car and in the door of the house. It felt childishly good to lock his door and he flopped on his bed, crossing his arms under his head and staring at the ceiling. He could hear Sam moving around downstairs. He was tired of feeling unsettled and unsafe, but what could he do about it?

His mind raced, a thousand thoughts chasing each other over and over, what to do, how to feel, was it worth it staying here? He must have drifted off, somehow, because a loud bang at his door caused him to startle awake, leaping from the bed, heart pounding and breath harsh.

"Come on, Cassie, open up! I'm back, and I brought friends!" a sing song voice said, muffled by the door.

"Gabriel?"

Castiel unlocked the door, stepping back just in time for it to fly open and then he had an arm full of Gabriel and they were falling to the bed, laughing. Castiel smiled up at his friend, reaching up to brush a stray lock of golden hair back.

"I missed you," he said, pulling him close and hugging him tightly.

"I missed _you_ ," Gabriel echoed.

"Should we leave you two alone?"

Castiel sat up, not so gingerly pushing Gabriel off of him, looking for the source of that dry comment. A handsome, thin man lounged against his doorframe, smiling. Like Gabriel, he wore no contacts or cover up, leaving his skin pale cream and his eyes dark pinpricks. As he approached the bed, Castiel stood and accepted his outstretched hand.

"Balthazar," he introduced himself, putting his other hand over Castiel's and squeezing slightly. "I must say," Balthazar continued, "Gabriel did not do you justice in describing you."

"Thank you?" Castiel gave Gabriel a quick, confused look. "You're British?"

"What gave me away? My dashing good looks?" Balthazar teased in a soft drawl.

"How did you meet Gabriel?" He tugged slightly, freeing his hand, feeling a slight blush on his cheeks. "And are you like me?"

"Yes, naming us after angels started in England, at the institute." Balthazar came fully inside the room and looked around, inspecting the bookcase. "I met Gabriel at the retreat. He spoke very highly of you, but there was another reason we came here."

"What?"

"Castiel, how are you?”

That rich, warm voice sent a trill of pleasure down Castiel's spine and he smiled happily. "Uriel!" He opened his arms, hugging his friend. "I thought you went to New York!"

"I did. I did not find it as enlightening as I'd hoped."

"What are you doing here, then?" Castiel looked around at the three men in the room. He was glad Gabriel was all right, happy to see Uriel again, but he was worried about Gabriel's ties to the prophet. Were the other two involved, as well?

"When Gabriel talked of having meet you, I knew I had to come for a visit," Uriel explained. "Castiel, we've found it."

"Found what?" Castiel asked, glancing at Gabriel.

"Let's leave serious discussions for another day," Balthazar interrupted smoothly. He stepped forward, placing his hand on Castiel's arm and smiling at him. "Would you care to accompany us to our house? I would really love to get to know you."

"I can't. I have to work," Castiel said. He stepped away from Balthazar.

"Pity, then. Some other time?" Balthazar asked, smiling hopefully.

Castiel nodded and smiled at Uriel as he left, Balthazar trailing behind him. He pulled Gabriel into a tighter hug and whispered, "I'm glad you're back."

"Me, too," Gabriel said, grinning. “How long do you have until work?”

“About an hour.”

“Good,” Gabriel said, throwing his body down on Castiel’s bed. “Plenty of time to catch me up and tell me all about Princess.”

“Well, first of all, there is no Princess…” Castiel began.

They talked for most of the hour. Castiel explained about the changes in the town, how they now had to register. Gabriel frowned at that, but waved it away, and began to excitedly relate all his adventures, most of which had Castiel blushing. He spoke of the commune, sounding disappointed when he said he hadn't met the prophet.

"Balthazar's met him. He works with him, Castiel," Gabriel said. "I'm not totally sure I follow the party line they're handing out but it was nice to just be myself and not worry about anyone freaking out."

"Then why come back?"

"For you, of course," Gabriel answered, slapping Castiel with a pillow, grinning. He sobered quickly, sitting up. "I liked being with people like me, but I missed regular humans, too, you know? There's so much, cliche as it sounds, life here. At the commune, everyone was so serious. I don't know," he shrugged.

"Are you going to stay like this?" Castiel asked softly, running a finger along Gabriel's pale cheek.

"This is what I am, I told you. You should try it sometime."

Castiel shook his head. "I have enough trouble on my plate as it is."

"He's being an ass, huh?"

"He's being himself," Castiel said with a sigh. "I never know what he's really feeling. He comes around, wants to hang out, but freezes and runs if emotions show up, or if I get too close."

"You know Balthazar was asking a ton of questions about you," Gabriel said slyly.

"That might be something to look in to," Castiel said, smiling.

The alarm on Castiel’s phone went off and he glared at it, reluctantly standing, watching as Gabriel did the same. Gabriel smiled gently at him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“It’ll be okay, Cas, you’ll see.”

He stepped away and left the room, turning to wave at Castiel before shutting the door.

Castiel sat down on his bed, arms wrapped tightly around his torso. Seeing Gabriel again was relieving; he'd been so worried about his friend. Uriel looked good, and he seemed content, but Castiel remembered how he'd been in the institute, always on edge, critical of everything and defiant. And Balthazar... He smiled as he thought of the warm look in the man's eyes.

Shaking his head, he stood up and headed for the shower to get ready for work.

~~*~~

The bar was noisy tonight. There were more people than usual, and moving through the crowd was only easy because people tended to shy away from contact with him. It used to bother him, the attitude that he was somehow contagious, that he was something to be avoided at all costs, but tonight he was grateful for not having to fight through a mass of bodies. He was tired and crabby, still unsettled about having to register with Jody, aggravated with Sam over the community service bombshell, worried about Gabriel and what he might have gotten himself into.

With an exasperated sigh, Castiel shoved through the swinging doors into the kitchen and leaned against a counter, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

"Trouble in paradise?" Garth asked, stepping away from the dishwashing machine.

"Nothing I can't handle," Castiel said. "Did you register?"

"Yeah. And signed up for the community bullshit." Garth shook his head. "I get why they're concerned but it's like we're being punished or something."

"Slave labor," Castiel said, shaking his head. "Don't have to pay the dead people who owe a debt to the society they tried to eat."

"Ellen pays us," Garth protested.

"This is different, Garth. And I don't think it's going to get better." Castiel groaned when the sound of his name being called drifted in from the front. "I've got to go. Be careful, all right? People aren't being reasonable."

“You too! At least I get to hide back here. You’re stuck right in the middle of them.”

“Still, you have Bess to look after, Garth. Just…” Castiel paused, wincing when his name was shouted again.

“I’m good, Cas.”

Castiel nodded and slipped from the kitchen. He immediately tensed, frowning, at the sight of Dean, leaning over the bar, shouting his name.

“What do you want, Dean?” Exasperation made his voice rougher than normal, and Dean seemed to appreciate the gruffness, if his leer and wink were any indication.

“Going patrolling tonight. Want to ride along?”

“Why would I ever do that?”

“Dunno. Just thought you’d like to take your mind off things,” Dean explained. “I heard about having to go to Jody. I'm trying to be a good friend, you know, spend time with you.”

“Are you drunk?” Castiel asked softly, leaning forward.

“Not really. Just buzzed.” Dean looked hopefully up at Cas then shrugged, dropping his gaze to his glass of whiskey. “You’ve been busy every time I called this week and I thought we could catch up. Kinda miss you.”

“So this is where you work. Charming.”

Balthazar’s rich tone was warm and welcoming and Castiel smiled at him, turning away from Dean, relived at the interruption.

“It’s quaint, Castiel, but I must say, I don’t believe it suits you.”

“Where would suit me, then, Balthazar?” Castiel ignored Dean’s cough and took Balthazar’s offered hand.

“We could discuss that at my house,” Balthazar offered, leaning in, brushing a curl behind Castiel’s ear. “What time are you finished here?”

“Right now,” Ellen said, coming up behind Castiel. He looked over his shoulder at her. She grinned widely and nodded. “Go on, get. We’re busy, but not that busy that you can’t take some time for yourself.”

“Ellen, are you sure?”

“Don’t make me tell you twice, mister.”

Castiel grinned and stripped his apron off, coming around the bar. He made no protest when Balthazar curled his arm around his waist. It actually felt very nice and he leaned into the physical contact, walking side by side with him out the bar. He very deliberately kept his gaze forward, refusing to look back, telling himself he didn’t care what he might see on Dean’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr: www.monkeyscomewithme.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr: www.monkeyscomewithme.tumblr.com


End file.
